


Your Man

by evansrogerskitten



Category: Dean Winchester - Fandom, Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kissing, song inspiration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 14:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14917349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evansrogerskitten/pseuds/evansrogerskitten
Summary: It takes a slow dance with Dean to sweep you off your feet.





	Your Man

**Author's Note:**

> This is for @impalaimaging Word Play Challenge, my prompt is in bold. I’ve been stuck in writers block so the song “Your Man” by Josh Turner pulled me out. If you’ve never heard that song, please do. It was perfect for this.

Music drifted from your laptop, the only sound in the quiet bunker. Sam was off somewhere doing Sam stuff, and you and Dean had settled at the map table in the War Room. You were doing research (on new boots thanks to Doctor McDonna Wakanda’s stolen credit card) while Dean cleaned weapons. It was a calm evening in comparison to the usual monster murder madness.

You pressed _Purchase_ with a gleeful cackle, and then caught Dean looking at you.

“What?”

Dean grinned, shaking his head. “Nothin'.”

The first few seconds of a country song began and you sighed wistfully. “I love this song.”

Dean set his gun down and then slowly pushed himself up from the table. He held his hand out, waiting for you to take it.

“What?” You looked down at his open palm in confusion. 

“Dance with me?” The bright hope in his eyes made your stomach flip flop.

“Here?” You squeaked.

Dean pulled you up, slipping an arm around your back and your hand in his. You giggled as you set your hand on his shoulder, smiling as he started to sing along and match the deep octave.

_“Baby, lock the doors and turn the lights down low, Put some music on that's soft and slow, Baby, we ain't got no place to go, I hope you understand, I've been thinking_... **oh, that’s deeper than I thought.** ” He chuckled as he stumbled over another low baritone note.

“You like it deep?” You teased.  
  
“Shut up,” He scoffed. His hand was warm on your back as he pulled you closer, your hand still in his. You swayed together, matching each other’s rhythm as you moved through the room. You willed your knees to not give out as they trembled.

“ _Ain't nobody ever love nobody, The way that I love you, We're alone now, You don't know how long I've wanted to_ …” Dean continued to sing a little off key.

“Sam’s gonna see us,” You whispered, your chin against the soft plaid on his shoulder.

“I don’t care,” Dean murmured. Not only could Dean slow dance, but he was actually really good at it. As if you needed another reason to fall for him.

“ _Never felt a feeling quite this strong, I can't believe how much it turns me on, Just to be your man_ …” As the song ended Dean made another joking attempt at the deep octave, but your heart was racing hearing him sing those words. His dorky smile faded and he took a deep breath.

“Songs over,” you stated, your hand clammy in his. He was looking at you like _that_ for a reason, right?

“I don’t care,” His cheeks were flushed, like a bashful kid getting up the courage to dance with a girl at prom.

Another song was playing but your steps slowed. Dean was looking down at you, his olive eyes memorizing your cheekbones, your jawline, your mouth. _Holy shit_ you thought, your heart pounding as his lips parted and he leaned in.

“Guys?” Sam called out as he rounded the corner. Dean groaned, releasing you from his arms. If looks could kill, nice knowing ya Sam.

“Gonna get dinner. Chinese okay?” Sam asked.

You nodded as you stepped back towards the table, the edge pressed against the back of your thighs. Dean crossed his arms and glared at his brother, “Sure. Whatever _you_ want.”

Sam’s eye widened at his brother’s clipped tone as he climbed the stairs, confused about the tension in the room.

Within seconds of the steel door closing Dean’s arms were around you, no hesitation at all as he leaned in and finally kissed you.

And it was _so good_. His lips were soft yet strong, kind yet demanding. His hand rested on your neck and you moaned, pulling him closer. Pressed together, soft breaths and feverish lips, it was the kiss you’d dreamt of for years. Dean’s tongue swept over your lower lip before he pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

“I wanted to do that for years,” He smiled.

“Yeah, me too.” You nodded. It was the best kiss of your life. You wrapped your fingers into the seam of his plaid as your lips met his again. Years of need and missed chances and zero courage, and here he was, the smell of the gun oil and wintergreen, the sweep of calloused fingers and plush lips, nibbling teeth and small smiles. Dean had you.

And you weren’t going to miss a second more.

**Author's Note:**

> Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of evansrogerskitten. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post.


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